On the day her fiancé celebrated another woman’s birthday, Evelyn signed the contract for a heart transplant surgery.

The doctor looked at her solemnly. “The surgery is scheduled for a month from now. It’s incredibly risky. Are you certain you’ve spoken with your family about this?”

Evelyn nodded, but before she could respond, the patient’s parents rushed forward, dropping to their knees with tears streaming down their faces.

“Thank you! Thank you for giving our daughter a second chance at life. We don’t know how to thank you enough…”

The couple, both in their late forties, looked affluent. The man’s tailored suit and the woman’s designer jewelry radiated wealth and status. But at that moment, they bowed before Evelyn, their expressions raw with desperation and gratitude.

Evelyn’s throat tightened. Her chest felt heavy—not from emotion, but from the unbearable weight of her reality.

This couple was about the same age as her own parents. For months, they had begged her to save their daughter, promising her anything she could possibly want if she agreed to the surgery. And her own family? They knew she was barely surviving—haunted and broken, even attempting to end her life—and yet, they said nothing.

And Christopher, her fiancé? He likely wished she’d vanish sooner rather than later.

The doctor’s question about discussing the surgery with her family? Pointless. She hadn’t told anyone. This was her decision alone. But what did it matter? She didn’t care to keep going.

Fighting the sting of tears, Evelyn reached out and helped the couple to their feet. “Don’t worry. Since I’ve signed the contract, I’ll follow through.”

“Boom! Crackle!”

Just as her words fell, brilliant fireworks burst across the night sky outside the window. Colors exploded in dazzling patterns, painting the darkness with celebration.

The timing couldn’t have been more cruel. It felt as though the city itself was celebrating the couple’s victory—their daughter’s salvation.

The couple exchanged relieved smiles. Even the doctor glanced at the fireworks, a flicker of relief softening his usually stoic demeanor.

Evelyn, however, turned her face away, her lips pressing into a thin line.

She knew the fireworks weren’t for her—or even for the life she was about to save. They were for her. Charlotte.

It was Charlotte’s birthday and Christopher had gone to extravagant lengths, arranging an entire city-wide fireworks display just for her.

As the explosions echoed in the background, Evelyn stood, grabbing her bag. Her voice, small and almost swallowed by the noise, was tinged with quiet resignation. “The contract is signed. If anything comes up, just let me know.”

Only then did the others acknowledge her. The couple hurriedly pulled out a check and a business card, pressing them into her hands.

“Ms. Carter, here’s $300,000. Please take it. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to reach out to us.”

“This is just a small token of our appreciation. Please accept it!”

Evelyn shook her head and refused the check. This wasn’t a sale—she wouldn’t dare take their money. Quietly, she accepted the business card instead.

But as her eyes scanned the card, her fingers froze. Her breath hitched and her heart seemed to stop.

[William. CEO of Sinclair Industries.]

Her hands trembled as the truth hit her. These weren’t just any parents. They were Charlotte’s parents.

The air felt suffocating and panic surged through her veins. Without a word, Evelyn fled the hospital.

***

The fireworks were still painting the sky as Evelyn arrived back at her empty villa.

Christopher was already waiting by the entrance. One hand rested in his coat pocket, while the other tapped impatiently on his watch. His face darkened with each passing moment.

It was nearly ten and Evelyn still hadn’t come home.

Beside him, Charlotte shivered in the biting December wind. Winter in Redwood City was harsh, with snow blanketing the streets for most of the month. She tugged at Christopher’s sleeve, her voice soft and saccharine.

“Chris, let’s go back inside. The cake hasn’t been cut yet…”

Christopher’s brows furrowed as he stood at the villa's entrance, his sharp gaze fixed on the empty driveway. His voice, low and unwavering, broke the silence.

“Go back and cut the cake yourself.”

Charlotte’s bright smile faltered, her voice softening into a familiar, hesitant tone as she played her usual card.

“But Chris... my heart’s feeling a little fragile and it’s so cold out here.”

At that, Christopher finally turned to look at her. His piercing, icy stare gradually softened, shifting into the warmth and indulgence Charlotte had come to expect.

He reached up and adjusted her coat, tucking it tighter around her shoulders. His tone was gentle now. “It’s snowing and freezing out here. Go inside and warm up. I’ll wait a little longer.”

Charlotte hesitated before reaching for his hand, but just as she did, Evelyn arrived. She stepped through the gate and into the courtyard, only to find Christopher and Charlotte standing side by side, their attention entirely on one another.

Evelyn quickly lowered her gaze, biting her lip. She said nothing, quickening her pace until she reached the center of the snowy courtyard. There, she dropped to her knees without hesitation, her movement precise and practiced.

This was Christopher’s punishment. Yesterday, after an argument with Charlotte that escalated into harsh words, he had decreed that Evelyn should kneel in the snow for the entire day.

No one could defy Christopher—not even Evelyn.

Hearing the noise behind them, Christopher and Charlotte turned their heads. Christopher immediately pulled his hand back from Charlotte and shoved it into his coat pocket, his tone colder than the winter wind.

“Where were you?”

Evelyn’s voice was weak, her breath barely visible in the icy air. “There was something important I had to take care of.”

Christopher’s eyes swept over her pale face, his jaw tightening. His hand flexed inside his pocket, betraying the storm of questions swirling in his mind.

Who had she gone to see? Why was she back so late? And why was she wearing so little in this kind of weather?

But when he finally spoke, the words came out stiff and unforgiving. “Do you know what you did wrong?”

Yesterday, Evelyn had shocked everyone by lashing out at Charlotte, using crude, biting words that left Charlotte shaken—so shaken, in fact, that it triggered a mild heart episode.

Christopher had been forced to cancel his meetings and rush Charlotte to the hospital. He’d spent the entire day apologizing, culminating in tonight’s city-wide fireworks display to make her birthday unforgettable. Only after all that had Charlotte forgiven the incident.

To appease her further, Christopher had declared Evelyn would be punished—kneeling in the snow all day. In truth, it was more of a symbolic gesture. He hadn’t intended to take it seriously.

Charlotte had been his childhood friend, practically family. They’d grown up together and Christopher would never let his fiancée undermine her. Besides, his business partnership with the Sinclair Family was far too important to jeopardize over a petty conflict.

As long as Evelyn apologized and Charlotte calmed down, he’d have been satisfied.

But to his disappointment, Evelyn raised her head stubbornly, her eyes meeting his without flinching.

“And what, exactly, did I do wrong?”

Christopher’s expression darkened instantly.

If she wouldn’t acknowledge her mistakes, then he’d have to teach her.

Standing tall in the snow, Christopher’s cold gaze bore into Evelyn. His voice was like frost. “Then you’ll kneel for another day. Get up tomorrow night.”

With that, he grabbed Charlotte’s wrist and turned away. “Let’s go. Time to cut the cake.”

As they disappeared into the warmth of the villa, Evelyn tilted her head back, watching the snow swirl and fall around her.

Obedience.

The word echoed in her mind as snowflakes melted on her cheeks.

Christopher was her test of obedience, wasn’t he?

Five years ago, he had saved her from a human trafficking ring. And from that moment on, Evelyn had latched onto him, seeing him as her anchor.

Her family had been no anchor at all.

Her father, who had abandoned her for another woman, barely bothered with an occasional call—at least until his new wife and child came along, after which even the rare phone calls stopped altogether.

Her mother, a barely-educated woman who had struggled to raise her alone, had finally remarried and started a new family of her own.

Evelyn had become a leftover piece of her broken family, a shadow nobody wanted.

And so she had clung to Christopher, following him, obeying him.

But now, kneeling in the snow, Evelyn wondered if she was clinging to salvation—or if she had simply traded one prison for another.

Evelyn’s past had shaped her rebellious streak. She had grown strong, fiercely independent and stubborn to a fault. Her reasoning was simple: if even her own parents had abandoned her, how could she possibly expect goodness from anyone else?

That was, until she met Christopher.

The day they met was etched into her memory—a moment both humiliating and life-changing.

She had been grabbed by a group of angry strangers, accusing her of being a mistress. The crowd around her jeered, their judgmental whispers cutting like knives. No one listened to her frantic protests that she didn’t even know these people. No one stepped in to help.

Then, like a figure descending from the heavens, Christopher had intervened.

He pulled Evelyn out of the mob, his deep, calm voice cutting through the chaos like a balm. His words were firm, authoritative and laced with an unshakable confidence, “I’m her husband. Who are you? Let go of her, or I’ll call the police.”

Just like that, he had saved her.

As the mob dispersed, Evelyn shoved herself away from him, her pride as bruised as her arms. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the only money she had left—a single crumpled hundred-dollar bill—and thrust it toward him. Her distrust of people dripped from every syllable.

“Thanks for saving me. This is all I’ve got. Is it enough? If not, I’ll find a job and pay the rest later.”

Christopher had looked at the wrinkled bill, his lips quirking into an amused smirk. He should’ve walked away, but instead, he lingered, something about her defiance intriguing him.

“Well,” he said, “as it happens, my company’s looking for a clerk. Interested?”

Evelyn frowned suspiciously, snatching the bill back. “You’re not part of some scam, are you? Pretend to save me, then trick me into something worse?”

Christopher blinked, momentarily stunned. “...You’re unbelievable.”

In the end, with nowhere else to go, Evelyn followed him.

What began as an arrangement of necessity gradually blossomed into something deeper.

At first, Christopher admired her tenacity. Maybe it was because she was so different from the women in his world—particularly Charlotte. Evelyn’s fiery independence and unpolished honesty were a stark contrast to Charlotte’s delicate, polished demeanor.

For three years, their relationship was blissful. They were inseparable and for the first time in her life, Evelyn felt like the world wasn’t entirely against her.

But then Charlotte returned.

Fresh from her studies abroad, Charlotte re-entered Christopher’s life with all the subtlety of a hurricane. Her presence disrupted the fragile balance Evelyn and Christopher had built.

It was around this time that Christopher’s feelings began to shift.

At first, he appreciated Evelyn’s stubbornness, her refusal to conform. But then he began to see it as a flaw—a flaw he wanted to fix.

“You can’t keep acting like this. You need to change.”

“Evelyn, why can’t you be more like Charlotte? Do you always have to be so difficult?”

“There’s only so much patience a person has. Don’t test mine.”

Evelyn loved Christopher deeply, but she wasn’t naive. She knew love wasn’t permanent. Her parents’ love for her had faded; why wouldn’t Christopher’s?

So, she began changing—bit by bit, piece by piece—molding herself into the version of Evelyn that Christopher seemed to want.

She hid her temper, bit her tongue and tried to be as poised and agreeable as Charlotte.

But the more she changed, the less of herself remained. Depression crept in and soon, Evelyn was a shadow of the person she used to be. She spoke less, smiled rarely and lost interest in everything.

And yet, it still wasn’t enough for Christopher.

Now, as snowflakes tumbled from the sky, Evelyn knelt in the courtyard, her body trembling from the cold. The icy flakes melted on her cheeks and trickled down her neck, but she didn’t move.

Through the windows of the villa, warm light spilled out, accompanied by the sound of laughter. Christopher and Charlotte’s voices mingled inside, their laughter ringing clear as they talked about something amusing.

Human instinct craved warmth and light, but Evelyn only bowed her head lower. Her legs had gone numb long ago, but the faint smile on her lips was bitter and indifferent.

None of it mattered.

A month from now, she would be on the operating table, her life hanging by a thread. She had already decided that if she didn’t make it, so be it.

Warmth, love, health, life—it all seemed so pointless.

Later that night, after the birthday celebration, Christopher drove Charlotte home.

As he passed the courtyard, he saw Evelyn, still kneeling in the snow. She didn’t lift her head to look at him, her figure a motionless silhouette against the white backdrop.

Christopher hesitated for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He climbed into his car, gripping the steering wheel tightly, annoyance flickering in his chest.

He didn’t know why he felt that way, but it bothered him.

Breaking the silence, he glanced at Charlotte and asked, “Do you think I’m... too harsh on her?”